


Throne of Winter

by WinterIsComing (CrystalNavy)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Badass characters, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, F/M, Identity Reveal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Politics, Post - Red Wedding, Secret Identity, Secret Plots, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, fake name, other characters not mentioned in tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22387417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalNavy/pseuds/WinterIsComing
Summary: In the aftermath of Red Wedding, the Starks are no longer a threat. The Tullys are withstanding the siege and licking their wounds. The Tyrells and the Lannisters are at odds with one another.However, the Tullys have a secret of their own. One that will change the entire structure of the game.
Relationships: Dacey Mormont/Robb Stark, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Robb Stark/Talisa Maegyr (past), Roslin Frey/Edmure Tully
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Brynden I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynden Tully has a secret.

The trees swayed in a pleasant breeze as Brynden made his way down to lower levels. The tables have been set and the finest foods have been laid upon them. Brynden's cupbearer, Lothor, stood by the table. He held a flagon of wine in his hands. His 'guests' began to trickle in. Most of them were Freys. These days, the Freys and the Tullys shared the title of Lords of Riverrun. However, anyone could see that it was a sham, and that the Freys were truly the ones in charge, backed by the Crown as they were. The same Crown that took his grand-nephew from him. Brynden Tully wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry.

"The King in the North arises." Brynden chuckled, downing his glass of wine.

His cupbearer, Lothor, was a lad of eighteen. Brynden turned to look at him. He beheld Lothor's startling blue eyes. The same eyes that his grand-nephew had. Before they slew him and butchered everyone affiliated with him, that was. But this was no time for mourning. They needed to get their act together.

"My Lord?" Lothor said tentatively

"I am fine." Brynden waved a hand "I just miss my grand-nephew, is all. I was rather fond of the lad, despite the short time we spent together. He would have celebrated his eighteenth name day if he had lived. He would have been the same age as you, and I am sure the two of you would have gotten along well."

"I am sorry for your loss, my Lord." Lothor bowed

"Don't be." Brynden said sharply "My grand-nephew is dead, and it shall stay that way. Now fetch me more wine."

As Lothor departed, Brynden Tully couldn't help but be reminded of his grand-nephew once again.

Still, the past was in the past, and he had to look to the future. They all did.

Soon, Lothor returned with a decanter, which he placed on the table in front of Lord Tully. Then he departed, silently.

"To the King in the North." Brynden toasted quietly "And to my grand-nephew, our very own Lord of Castamere."

-x-

The main hall was filled to the brim with people, mostly by the Freys.

"Say, do you have anyone eligible here to marry my daughters?" Walder Frey got straight to the point

"Given what happened last time a Frey and a Tully wed, I would have to say no." Brynden said dryly "I would offer my cupbearer, Lothor Reyne, the sole survivor of House Reyne, but I can't stand to be parted from him. He reminds me of my lost grand-nephew too much."

These words were followed by a bout of laughter.

"You are a Reyne?" Walder Frey turned to the young man

"Aye. My mother and I lived in Essos, up until her death. Her last will was for me to return to Westeros, so I did. But it was not what I imagined. I had to live on scraps of food. Then Lord Tully found me. I reminded him of his grand-nephew and so he took me in. I've been serving him as a cupbearer ever since. After all, he saved my life, and that's something I can never repay."

-x-

Lothor removed his cloak, under Brynden's careful watch.

"Don't you think you overplayed it too much?" Brynden asked

He looked cross, although his tone betrayed his amusement.

"It's mostly the truth, with a few minor altercations." Lothor said "You did save my life when I was sure it would be over, after all. It still gives me nightmares. Who cares if I altered a couple of details?"

"Indeed." Brynden nodded

"Besides, you came up with the idea of using the Reyne name." Lothor added "It's a clever allusion, I'd give you that, but don't you think it's too obvious?"

"Meh." Brynden scowled "The Freys will never put two and two together. They are too stupid for that."

"True." Lothor conceded with a laugh.

He proceeded to remove the rest of his clothes. Two large wounds - one on his shoulder and one on his chest - revealed themselves, along with many minor ones all over his body.

"They are healing nicely." Brynden observed

Lothor said nothing. He merely put his clothes back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. This is my ultimate mystery story. See if you can figure out what's really going on.


	2. Lothor I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothor reminisces.

To Lothor, the fortress of Riverrun felt cramped, especially in these circumstances. Lord Tully held meetings here and there, some of them important, some of them not. Lothor was present during all of these, a quiet man whose only job was to serve wine. He had heard many conversations, and he had learned many things. It was Lord Tully's intention all along, he suspected. 

He was serving wine once more, and this time, Lord Tully was conversing with Tyrells. Loras Tyrell was seated across from Lord Tully, with his sister to his left. Loras had lost the love of his life, just as Lothor had. In any other circumstances, they would be great friends. Except that Lothor Reyne wasn't always Lothor Reyne. He was someone else once, someone who was the enemy of the Tyrell family as things now stood. That man was dead, though, at least during the day. During the night, that man resurfaced, reminding him of who he truly was. A man who had loved. A man who had erred. A man who lost everything.

During the night, old wounds reopened, reminding Lothor of everything he had lost. He was young. He was inexperienced. He was naive. And he paid the ultimate price for it.

"I know what you are thinking." Lord Tully's voice woke him up from his musings

They were alone in a room, and Brynden Tully was looking through the window.

"You believe that you have to bear your burden alone." he said "But you do not. I will help you, as I was unable to. I was unable to be by your side for when it really mattered. And for that I am sorry."

"No, not you." Lothor said in a small voice "Never you. I was the one who......"

"I should have helped you." Brynden cut him off "I should have been there. I should have given you advice. Steered you down the right path. And now I can. This is a new beginning for both of us, and we won't let it go to waste. We are raising our armies. We will crush the Lannisters in your name. I shall crush them for what they did to you and everyone else."

Lothor swallowed.

"And I will listen." he promised "I will listen. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

-x-

Lothor found himself back in that place.

Edmure and Roslin were exchanging the wedding wows, and he was watching it old unfold, as if he was just an outside spectator, rather than the main actor in the gruesome play about to take place.

And then he saw himself. He was drinking wine, and laughing.

Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Those were the words he wanted to scream, to make his younger self understand the situation he was in.

But he couldn't. All he could do was watch as everyone was slaughtered. As he was stabbed in the shoulder and the chest and then thrown into a river.

As Brynden Tully rescued him from his watery grave.

"You're dead." Brynden Tully told him then "You must shed your true name for now, at least until the time is right. From now on, you're Lothor Reyne, my cupbearer."

Lothor agreed, and adapted to his new identity quite easily. 

From then on, Brynden Tully made sure he learned all there was to learn about politics. He was a slow learner, but he did learn. From books, from conversations, that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that he learned.

He wouldn't squander the chance he had been given.

He wouldn't disappoint the one person who made it all possible.

He refused to.


	3. Edmure I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edmure and his nephew have an argument.

Edmure closed his eyes.

He recalled a memory from so long ago......

_  
He had dismounted his horse, and his sister rushed towards him._

_They embraced one another tightly, knowing that they won't see each other again for a long time._

_Only when he let go did he notice a small boy with flaming red hair and a face full of freckles, who was hiding behind Catelyn._

_"This is Robb." Catelyn introduced "My first trueborn son. Say 'hello' to uncle Edmure, Robb."_

_Edmure knelt to get a better look at the child, and he couldn't help but adore him._

_"Hello." Robb greeted him shyly_

_"I promise you that nothing bad would happen to you as long as I am around." Edmure said seriously  
_

Edmure winced. Many years had passed since then, and there was a world of difference between then and now. 

After a brief hesitation, he raised his hand and knocked.

"Enter." a muffled voice said from the other side

Edmure did just that. Mindful of the glass in his hand, he placed it on the nightstand and then sat in the chair beside the bed.

The man in the bed was different. Very different. All the freckles were gone.

"I am sorry, Robb." Edmure apologized "I broke my promise to you. I am not a very good brother or uncle, am I? My sister died and you almost died while I was fucking a woman."

"Not your fault." Robb whispered "My fault......shouldn't have trusted the Freys or Boltons. And don't call me Robb. I'm Lothor now. Lothor Reyne. And the walls have ears."

"I'll make another promise to you then." Edmure knelt "I promise to protect you from this day until my last day, as any proper uncle should."

Robb nodded, though he was looking at the distance rather than at Edmure.

"Drink this." Edmure offered 

"How are preparations going along?" Robb asked, as he tried to get up

As a consequence of his increased activity, his wounds had opened again, and he was confined to bed until his chest wound healed.

"We're moving out tomorrow at dawn." Edmure told him

"Then I am coming along." Robb decided

"No, you're not." Edmure countered "Drink this."

"I am not missing this." Robb crossed his arms "I am going. And I won't drink that."

"If you won't drink it, then I'll make you drink it." Edmure threatened "I just promised to protect you, not to let you fight men who would love nothing more than kill you while you're still injured."

Darker blue eyes warred with lighter blue ones.

Finally, Robb looked away.

He took the glass - albeit reluctantly - and drank the liquid inside as quickly as possible.

"I still feel bad about not joining you when you're fighting for me." he remarked sullenly 

"We're fighting for your life." Edmure pointed out "Throwing yourself into danger rather defeats the purpose, does it not?"

"I am the King. Kings should fight alongside their people."

"You're no King. You're officially dead. At least until we win this war." Edmure chuckled "Besides, as King, you don't have to do everything by yourself."

"That's what Roose Bolton said before he turned on me." Robb muttered darkly

"I am not Roose Bolton." Edmure assured him "And I don't plan on turning on you, ever."

Robb was about to say something else, but the effects of dreamwine kicked in and he fell down onto his pillow, fast asleep.

"Rest well, nephew." Edmure said quietly "You don't know how important you are to Brynden and me. Especially to me. You're our last link to Cat."

With those words, he left the room, closing the door behind him.


	4. Walder Frey I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walder Frey is not as stupid as some people think he is.

Walder Frey bit into the steak. It was tasty, very tasty. So was the wine.

But what really interested him was the people. His host, Brynden Tully, had acquired a new addition to his household, whose duty was to carry the goblets and pour the wine. It was customary for people of noble birth to do such things in order to learn how to behave in court. It was the man's name that truly interested him. Lothor Reyne. House Reyne was rendered extinct years ago. 

"That cupbearer of yours intrigues me." Walder Frey told his host "Although, calling him a page is more appropriate."

"Yes." Brynden said in a guarded tone "I found him wandering around, lost and delirious from fever. When I heard he was from House Reyne via his mother, I figured out what better way to get back at Lannisters for the Red Wedding and my grand-nephew's fate than raising the last son of the family that had slighted them to steal everything they have?"

"A daring plan." Walder Frey laughed "I like daring plans."

He felt pressure from somewhere behind him. He turned around only to see that Edmure Tully was glaring at him. If it weren't for the cupbearer holding him back, he would have lunged at him.

"You don't fool me with your jovial attitude, Frey." Edmure spat "My nephew was honorable and kind. He was our last link to Cat, and you had a hand in having both of them killed. I'll never forgive you for their deaths."

Lothor Reyne released Edmure Tully's shoulder once he deemed it was safe.

"I need to retire." Edmure suddenly said "Would you escort me to my room, Lothor?"

The other man nodded and looped an arm under Edmure's own, supporting him. As they left, their eyes met Walder's own.

And Walder Frey noticed that while Edmure was looking at him with anger and disdain in his eyes, Lothor Reyne was looking at him with fear.

-x-

The Rains of Castamere played, like a symphony from hell.

And suddenly, every Tully and those affiliated with them in the hall had a weapon of some sort, from crossbows to swords to daggers.

The Freys died in various ways, accompanied by Rains of Castamere. A symphony of death.

They left a few survivors, Walder Frey himself included.

"Run." Brynden Tully told them "Run and we will chase you down."

His eyes were filled with bloodlust.

So Walder ran. He ran until Edmure Tully intercepted him. He advanced at him menacingly.

"Much as I'd like to kill you, your life isn't mine to take." Edmure said quietly "That honor belongs to him."

Walder Frey turned around. Lothor Reyne stood there, twirling a knife in his hand.

The same knife Roose Bolton had plunged into Robb Stark's heart.

So how and why did Lothor Reyne have it?

"How did you get that?" he stammered 

"How do you think?" Edmure deadpanned

And suddenly Walder Frey realized the truth.

Lothor Reyne wasn't a scion of House Reyne at all.

Reyne. Rains of Castamere. The Red Wedding.

Lothor Reyne.....

Lothor Reyne was Robb Stark all along.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, for Edmure clapped slowly.

"Congratulations." he whispered "You figured it out."

"Too bad you won't be able to tell anyone." Robb Stark said as he plunged the dagger into his heart and twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye, Walder Frey, and good riddance.


	5. Olenna I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some battles are won with force, some are won with negotiations.

"My lady, Brynden Tully is approaching. He wants parley." a messenger informed 

"Then we'll meet him and his companions." Olenna decided "We will see what he wants and act accordingly."

Soon, a small group of men arrived and dismounted their horses. Brynden Tully strode out in front, flanked by his nephew and two others. One of them was Edmure Tully's little bride. The other.....

Olenna Tyrell had never believed in ghosts, or the stories that told how they came back from the dead to seek out vengeance or to complete some unfinished business they still had.

Yet, now, she believed in one alright. There was no other rational explanation for this.

"I see you've taken notice." Brynden Tully smirked "What you see in front of you is no ghost. He is very much real. And he is one of the reasons I decided to parley with you. I was hoping to broker an alliance with you by having Lothor here married to Margaery. He is the last member of a noble house and therefore, he is worthy of her."

"I'll think about it." Olenna said "In the meantime, let's eat, drink and enjoy ourselves to our heart's content.

Brynden nodded, and they did just that. There were few people in attendance, or at least as few as it was possible in these kinds of circumstances.

"To the downfall of Lannisters!" Brynden said, downing his glass of wine

"To the peace." Olenna took a small sip from her own "Forgive me, but I've never liked wine. It messes with one's mind."

Brynden laughed at that.

-x-

"What do you think of their proposal?" Olenna asked her daughter

"This Lothor Reyne seems kindhearted, albeit somewhat melancholic." Margaery replied "He looks pleasing to the eye as well. I'd say he is a fine prospect."

"What if I told you he is really Robb Stark?" Olenna pressed on "What would you say then?"

"I'd say that it makes him an even finer prospect." Margaery's eyes twinkled with amusement

"Smart girl." Olenna nodded with approval "I am thinking of accepting."

"Then do so." Margaery said "You are the smartest member of our house at the moment."

"Yet you're catching up to me quickly." Olenna said "Sooner or later, I would die, and when I do it'd be up to you to keep your father and others in check. Very well, then. I'll accept his terms. We'll begin the wedding preparations right away."


	6. Dacey I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrells and Tullys prepare for battle.

Everywhere she went, Dacey encountered preparations for the battle. Some people were preparing weapons. Some people were preparing food and other supplies. And most people were training.

However, there were some who were not.

Dacey found Edmure Tully standing on a terrace, watching people train. Lothor Reyne was with him.

"I remember you." the Tully lord smiled at her "You were loyal to my nephew until the end."

"Always." Dacey choked out "I just wished I could have died with him."

"You still could fight for him, and even die for him, if you so wished." lord Tully told her "We are moving out against the Lannisters in three days."

"Oh yes." Dacey looked elated "I will ride into battle with you."

"I will ride out too." Lothor suddenly announced

Edmure said nothing, but Dacey could see he disapproved of the very idea. 

"Leave us, Lothor." he said simply 

The young man grumbled, but obeyed.

"Promise me you will never share what I am about to tell you with anyone else." Edmure turned to face her

"I promise." she said seriously

"The name Reyne and their fate is what prompted people to create the song called 'The Rains of Castamere'." Edmure told her "The same song which played on my wedding, right before my sister and nephew were killed. But what if they didn't both die? What if one of them survived with outside help."

Dacey's eyes widened.

"I see." she said at last "Very clever, my lord. Hidden in plain sight."

"I am not your lord." Edmure corrected her "Nor am I your king. That would be Lothor. And that's why he cannot ride with us. They'll kill him on sight."

Dacey understood that. She understood that all too well.

"My uncle is already making preparations for his and Margaery's union." Edmure told her "But you wouldn't want to be left behind on the sidelines either. People can make love even if they don't get married. That was something my nephew never understood and it very nearly cost him his life."

"I will keep it in mind, my lord." Dacey said with barely contained glee "Thank you."

"Good." Edmure moved towards the door "He might try to slip out and join us when we leave. So I charge you and others left behind to keep him here while we're away. Spread the word."

Dacey smiled and nodded.


	7. Greatjon I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is more than one kind of duty.

Greatjon stared at the army as they went farther and farther away. Brynden Tully was at the front of the army, and Edmure was by his side. Standing on either side of him were Margaery and Roslin. 

And in front of them, next to the gate, stood Lothor Reyne and Dacey Mormont. They held hands as the setting sun illuminated them with soft pink and red light. 

Edmure had told him who he really was before departing. Not that the Greatjon was fooled. He knew since his arrival here. Still, he could also tell that it was important for him to keep the secret, so he did.

He knew his duty, as did Dacey, as did all of them.

Lothor headed back towards the castle, with Dacey and Margaery at his heels. 

If the circumstances were different, Greatjon would have laughed.

But now he could not. All of them, with the exception of Margaery, were the intended victims of the Red Wedding and barely escaped with their lives.

He and Dacey stood guard as Lothor and Margaery spent time together. Margaery was determined to teach him about politics and political moves so that he never gave his enemies any openings they could use to exploit him.

She was teaching him how to win the game, and Greatjon was fine with it.

That night, he aroused Dacey and Margaery from their beds. He led them to the main gate.

"He'll no doubt try to sneak out." he told him "We were told to keep him here, but we won't do that. Why should we when most of us want revenge against Lannisters and Boltons. Gather loyal soldiers and we will meet back here. He's taking us along, whether he likes it or not. Both because we also want revenge and because he needs our protection. They will probably try to kill him on sight."

-x-

They did as they agreed to do. At midnight, they saw a figure move across the courtyard, towards the stables. The figure grabbed the reins of a majestic horse and moved towards the gate. Even with this little light, he was easily recognizable as Robb.

"Did you really think you can sneak off without us knowing." Greatjon called, stepping out into the light.

Margaery and Dacey stepped out into the light as well.

"I need to go." Robb seemed desperate "I need to do this. I need to atone for my mistakes."

"Aye." Greatjon agreed "But you can't assuage your guilt if you are dead, and unfortunately, most of our enemies want you dead."

"That's why we're coming with you." Dacey added "Someone has to protect you."

"And someone has to make sure you don't make any more mistakes." Margaery said playfully

"That's why we're either coming along or you aren't going." Greatjon decided "We want revenge too, you know."

Robb looked at them one by one, then nodded, though not before hesitating for a while.

"Then let us be on our way."

And so, the four of them, plus the soldiers Greatjon had provided, set out northwards. 

Into a battle of their own.


	8. Robb/Lothor II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not the beasts that are the most dangerous.

It was still dark outside when the four of them decided to stop for a rest.

Dacey got the fire going and the four of them sat around the fire. Robb felt the fire warming his hands, yet it did nothing to remove the coldness dwelling in his soul.

".....and then the musicians all had crossbows in their hands and they were all shooting at our king." Greatjon was saying "Many of us tried to stop their bolts from reaching the main target with our bodies, and many of us died. Some of us managed to survive, but barely. Including our king, though we didn't know that until recently."

Robb felt something suffocating in his belly. Guilt ate at his insides. The screams of people, people who died on that night. All because of him.

"Excuse me." he said, trying to swallow the bile in his throat "I am retiring early."

With that, he lifted the tent flap and disappeared within.

He lay there in bed, but sleep wouldn't come.

He could hear voices from outside the tent.

"He is still feeling guilty because of it." Dacey seemed concerned

"Then he is stubborn as hell." Greatjon declared in his usual straightforward manner "If anyone should shoulder the blame, it's Freys, Lannisters and Boltons."

"He believes that it wouldn't have happened if he chose differently." Margaery pointed out "I know how he feels, for I've experienced it myself."

"It's late." Greatjon said "I propose that you two retire as well. Maybe you can spend the night with him, help him relax? I'll keep watch tonight."

"It's a good idea." Dacey agreed

Robb turned around, facing away from the opening in the tent, pretending he was asleep. He heard Dacey and Margaery enter. 

He heard the rustle and they took off their clothes. He felt the warmth of their bodies as they lay on either side of him.

Their warmth helped him relax, and soon, he drifted off.

-x-

When Robb awoke, the sun was high up in the sky.

Margaery and Dacey were no longer with him. 

He got dressed and stepped outside. They were with Greatjon, who was fast asleep, making up for staying awake all night.

There were platters filled with food in front of them. The meal was simple, but fulfilling.

"We saved one for you as well." Dacey handed him the plate

"Thanks." he took it

He sat a few feet away and began to eat.

He was in no mood to face them, or to hear their empty assurances that it wasn't his fault.

Because it was.

He knew it was.

Looking at horizon, he wondered what the future would bring. Whether what happened next was good or bad didn't matter.

He deserved whatever happened to him.

Even if everyone else told him differently, he knew he did.


	9. Brynden II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins.

Brynden Tully surveyed the armies arrayed before him. Each enemy soldier wore a flayed man sigil on their armor.

He stared at the man in front of them, at the same man who stabbed his grand-nephew, nearly killing him in the process. He shuddered to think about what might have happened if he didn't find him on time. And he refused to let that happen again. Which was why he and Edmure decided to keep him well away from the battle. They didn't think they could endure losing him for real. Not when Cat died in order to keep him safe.

Brynden signaled the charge.

And as Tully and Bolton soldiers clashed, Brynden locked swords with Roose Bolton.

"Murderer." he spat

"I did what was right." Roose said cooly

"You did what suited you." Brynden hissed "You stabbed my grand-nephew because you didn't want to take a fall for him anymore."

"Yes." Roose admitted "I didn't want to suffer his fate. I wanted to outlive him and I did."

"You, an old man, are proud of outliving a 16-year-old boy?" Brynden's rage grew "I will kill you where you stand for that."

And then he leapt, his blade poised to stab Roose in the chest. 

Roose barely deflected a strike, and then countered with one of his own.

Brynden took the opportunity to grab him by the shoulder, as he had done to Robb on that night.

And just as it happened on that night, Brynden stabbed him in the chest.

"This is what you did to my grand-nephew." Brynden whispered "Not so pleasant when it happens to you, is it? Nonetheless, you won't die just yet. I'll bring you to Riverrun so he could avenge himself."

Roose's eyes widened like saucers.

"He's still alive.....?" Roose stammered

"Aye." Brynden said grimly "Thank the stars I found him in time, or he'd be dead. And you're to blame for that."

Then he slammed the pommel of his sword down onto Bolton patriarch's head, knocking him out.

"Put this filth on the cart, Edmure." Brynden instructed "We'll take him to Riverrun and let Robb finish him off. It is only fair, after all."

Edmure nodded. He and two of his men lifted Roose Bolton onto a cart and tied him up.

"Go." Brynden said "Me and the remaining army are large enough to finish the job even with our forces. Go and protect Robb. Our enemies might take advantage of our absence to assassinate him, and that won't do."

Edmure nodded.

Brynden shifted into a defensive stance. He wouldn't lose.

He couldn't lose.

Because if he did, the enemy army would be free to march to Riverrun and kill Robb.

"Come at me, fuckers." he challenged


	10. Edmure II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some nightmares can't be escaped, especially if they are based on your memories.

Edmure closed his eyes.

He was back in that hall. The crossbows were raining down on people in the hall. Except that rather than the nameless musicians, he and his men were firing them.

He approached his nephew, crossbow still in his hand.

"Why, uncle?" Robb looked up at him with pleading eyes.

He was pinned to the floor with two bolts, unable to move.

Edmure looked at Robb with shaking hands. He wanted to tell his nephew that he didn't want this, that he wasn't in control of his own actions, but no sound would come out.

So he stared down at Robb as his nephew took his final breath, watching as the light left the King in the North's eyes.

Then he woke up screaming.

"I've failed him." Edmure muttered "Failed him, failedhimfailedhimfailedhim......"

He would not do so again. He would get back to Riverrun and protect Robb.

Even if he had to lock his nephew up.

And he would drink. He would drink a lot.

-x-

Robb's room was empty.

"No......" Edmure whispered, falling onto his knees.

The note Robb left taunted him. He had gone to kill the Boltons. He would fall right into their hands. Roose was dead, but Ramsay's was not.

He imagined Robb in Ramsay's clutches, being tortured day and night, and he puked.

Bile fell from his mouth, dirtying the floor. But he didn't care. He would fight the whole world and puke all over it if it would bring Robb back and into his arms, where it was safe.

A new fire awoke, burning in his eyes. He unsheathed his short sword.

"On my honor as a Tully, I will chase you no matter where you are." Edmure vowed "I will find you, nephew, and I will keep you close. Keep you safe."


End file.
